


Berlin is Burning

by SashaDerksen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Gen, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4946932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDerksen/pseuds/SashaDerksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A description of a Post-WW2 Berlin. The Germanic members of the Axis Powers are defeated by the Allied Powers, but not without a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Berlin is Burning

Fire. That's all there was. I could not even make out the details of the once so great city. Pain was radiating all throughout my body, like an endless cycle. I could see soldiers's bodies burning at the stake of war. What startled me the most, what made my life take another toll, but made my blood run cold through my veins at the same time, was the bloody, torn up, crimson flag with the golden sickle and hammer waving above the once-great Berlin. I should be ecstatic, you would think, but sadly, it was not like that. My siblings, most of my friends were on the allies, so you would think: why did I despise the situation at hand so much? Well, your answer lies in a certain albino male who I have my own dues with. He made me question my position in the war, my strategic fighting, and sometimes, my mere existence. He ruined my country, tortured my people, and drove me to a stance of insanity. This very male was the reason I was standing in a burning Berlin. But as much as I damned him, he held a special place in my heart, one that I did not give him myself. I knew that as soon as the flag was up on there, it was his end. Unfortunately, I was feeling so much at the moment, I wasn't feeling at all. I wasn't even sure how to react. My thoughts were broken by gunshots and yells. Yells of Arthur Kirkland, personification of England. He was my ally at the moment, but I didn't even know how I felt about him. I turned my head in his direction, and I found the sight I feared, but expected. Before the emerald-eyed male, knelt a well-built, blue eyed, blonde male, blood riddling all his clothes. Can you guess who this man was? None other than Ludwig Beilschmidt, the personification of Germany. I know what you were thinking, I should be happy, but my heart shattered, as before myself, I didn't see a centuries-old man, but a young boy that I myself, helped raise. My mouth opened as I was going to yell something, maybe for them to stop, or maybe to keep going. At the moment, I wasn't even sure what I wanted, so nothing came out.  
"Loss of words, Lenichen?" I heard a voice say behind me. My heart dropped as I heard this voice. Every emotion in the whole world seemed to channel inside me, and was spilling out of my every pore. I whipped my head around, as tears welled up in my eyes. Tears of sadness, hate, happiness, pity, maybe? Hell, I didn't know at this point. The only thing mattered at the moment was the man standing before me. Pure white hair, eyes the color of blood, sickly pale skin. It was him, Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia. He was looking at me, with the same amount of emotion, maybe even more, or I just couldn't tell emotions apart anymore. Even with one look at him, you could tell that he was going to fall apart any second. Blood, so much blood staining half of his clothes, a gash on his cheek, his iron cross hanging by a thread.   
"Why?" Was the only thing I could muster with my own words at the moment. I wanted to say so much, to tell him that he was a bastard that deserved every scar on his body, but also tell him that I loved him and that everything is over now. He did the most unexpected thing you would ever do in this situation. The albino closed his eyes and knelt before me one knee, as he did centuries ago.  
"Wir hätte zerissen haben, aber ich werde immer treu bleiben, Lenichen." He spoke, his voice firm despite the massive injuries on his body. I bit down on my lip, forcing blood come out of another scar on my frail body.   
"Sie ruinirten mein leben." I replied in his native toungue, "aber..." I trailed off. I didn't understand what he wanted me to do in the situation. To forgive him? To aim and shoot a gun at him? I froze as I looked him over. If he was doing this at such a time, his actions had to be sincere. A ghastly wind blew behind me, sending my already messed up hair to the sides of my face. There we stood, once two of the greatest nations in Europe, torn apart by war, suffering, hatred. The man who once told me he would stay the greatest nation forever was kneeling before me, apologizing. It seemed as if time had stopped, as if everything was like back then... Although I wouldn't want it to be like back then. He spent all his time fighting, raising little Germany, cooperating with me, more fighting. If the both of us were to go through that again, we wouldn't last a day. At this point, I just wanted to go home. Doesn't matter with who, my brother or this man, who I spent seven centuries with. Just as I was about to say something, I was grabbed from behind, and turned away as they attacked the male in front of me.   
"Set me down, bastard!" I squirmed, but whoever was holding me was doing a good job of it.   
"Stay out of this, Карелия!" I recognized the voice as my brother, Ivan Braginsky, the personification of Russia. He was always against whatever me and Gilbert had between each other.   
"This has noting to do with you!" I screamed, managing to get a glimpse at my former best friend. He was being held with his arm behind his back by Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the United States of America. Catching my gaze, he forced a smile on his face.  
"Ich liebe dich." Was the last thing to come out of his mouth before Alfred shoved him onto the icy ground. I gasped, as my brother let go. I was just about to rush over to the albino male, as I felt another pair of arms around my chest.  
"Yíhàn, Karelia." I heard Yao Wang, the personification of China, apologetically say behind me. As good of friends as we were, I held no importance for apologies at the moment, and tried my best to get out of his grip.  
However, the worst part was just about to begin.  
"Getting away from us to swoon my sister? You could've done better." My brother's heavy winter boots made contact with the Prussian's flesh. I head something crack, most likely one of his ribs. The sight made my blood boil.  
"What are you doing?! Stay away from him, goddamn it!" I yelled as Yao tried his best to keep me in place.  
"Lena, aren't you forgetting that this is the man who starved us for three years, then bombed us nonstop? This is the man who tore our family apart! He started the fucking war!" Ivan yelled back at me, his voice echoing throughout the burning city.  
"That's not true! You know it's not!" Tears were threatening to spill over my teal eyes. In the corner of my eye, Gilbert shifted onto his side, pleading ruby eyes directed at me.  
"Lena, kümmer dich nicht darum." He stated his words. Before I could respond, my brother pressed his boot down on the albino's chest, making him cough up blood.  
"Don't you dare speak to my sister in that filthy language of yours." Ivan hissed angrily.   
"Filthy?" Gilbert's eyes dashed from me to my brother, an enraged look in his eyes.  
"Oh god." I whispered under my breath, barely audible. One thing that was an unmistakable trait in the albino was his ego. He never let anyone damage it regardless of who it was: his brother or the man who could kill him any second now.   
"Your beloved isn't putting up much of a fight, is he?" Ivan taunted me as I shot him a look of ferocity. No one was allowed to insult Gilbert like that except for me, not even my own brother.  
"You wouldn't dare." This was now a hit to my ego, not much smaller than the Prussian's. Suddenly, I saw him moving his arm to a gun laying nearby. Taking advantage of his enemies, so much like the old times. I began to worry that the gun was loaded, until Ivan moved his boot from Gilbert's chest to his outstretched arm, putting all of his weight on it. I heard a bone snap as the Prussian let out a cry of agony.  
"Ты перестанешь или я вырвусь отсюда! " I screamed, now in my brother's native tongue. Not for the best reasons.  
"Не перестану." Ivan smirked and put even more pressure on the now-broken bone.  
"Good, you can bring him over here." Alfred said. I turned my head to him. He was younger me by a fair amount, but now he was dictating rules? He grew up quite fast, didn't he? My brother picked up the Prussian by his silver hair and slowly dragged him over to the allies. Yao let go of me by now, and I probably should have done something about the whole situation, but I couldn't move. The once greatest nation in Europe was now laying in the snow, bloodied and bruised.  
"That'll teach you to give up faster."


End file.
